Dying Thoughts
by A for Anarchy
Summary: Seras is in a bind, this is what she's thinking. Possible sequel to come.


_Are you a virgin, my dear?_

Those are the last words that I heard before I died. And those words were not what I had been hoping to hear. After my parents were violently murdered, I had hoped that I would pass away in my sleep as an old woman. My profession as a police officer was contradictory to this goal, but I felt that I had to honor my father in some way, and taking up his post as an officer of the law seemed like a good thing to do at the time.

For years I was an orphan, a person that others looked down upon, someone that was easily taken advantage of. I wanted to change that, I wanted to change my status as a weak person, as a person without a family. I got a new family when I joined the force and I was given the opportunity to improve myself in the eyes of my peers and me. It didn't work out like I had planned. My squad mates called me 'Kitten,' like I was some small animal to be taken care of and protected. That bothered me, and at the same time, it didn't. I wasn't used to having look out for me, these men had my back and they trusted me to have theirs.

That felt good, being trusted I mean. Another thing that I wasn't used to. There's this image of orphans, we're all grubby little thieves, willing to pick the pocket of anyone who shows us a shred of goodwill and kindness. That was never me, but I got labeled just the same. And then, Cheddar happened.

There are nights that I wake up praying that it was all a nightmare, praying that I'll have my mates back, whole and unchanged. But then I look into the mirror and I don't see the eyes of the innocent that I used to be. I see the eyes of the killer that I am. And I have _him _to thank for it. He asked, and I answered, for the chance to live I sacrificed my soul to eternal damnation. I didn't even think about it. My master would frown over my remembering a past that no longer belongs to me, "The dead have no memories, Police Girl, you should get used to it," that's what he would say. But my memories are me, in some ways I'm still a human, not a vampire.

I don't drink blood because my human side is telling me that it's wrong, and so I become weaker. I never wanted to be weak, I wanted to be strong, strong enough to find the killers of my parents and repay them in kind. But I can't help but feel that I stealing someone else's life every time my master forces the blood past my lips and down my throat. I wanted to grow strong on my own, I didn't want to rely on anyone, but I was weak then as a human, and I'm weak now as a vampire.

And now, near the end of my un-life I wonder if it was all worth it. The pain and suffering, all the madness and blood and death that I have been subjected to since my turning. Was it worth my immortal soul? I didn't even find the vampire scum that murdered my parents, and here I am, at the end of my road, staring at the monster who is about to stab me with his blessed blades. Was it worth the short amount of time that I was with my master? Sir Integra? Walter? Would any of them miss me once I was gone?

I don't know, even my master said that it was mere "whimsy" that created me, perhaps he'll find someone else to turn. I would hate for him to be lonely. Lonely, Seras? get a hold of yourself, that mad vampire has plenty of voices in his head to keep him company. But I'll be lonely, I would hate to be in Hell without him, it just wouldn't be the same. I have always assumed that we would go out together in a blaze of gunfire and grenades, taking the Catholics down with us. But no, now it's just me and Paladin Father Alexander Anderson.

I don't want to disappear, I want to live this crazy un-life and make my mark on the world, no matter how small it may be. I want to become powerful enough that I can enjoy the sunlight once more, and walk among the humans without craving a taste of their blood. I want my master to recognize me as something more than an errant pet or a stray thought. I want Sir Integra to value me as an important member of Hellsing, and I want to see Walter smile at me and offer me my bag of donated blood. I want all of this and more. Well, Seras, I guess you'll have to fight for it, won't you? And with all of this weighing on my mind and on my lifeless heart, I struck at the Judas Priest with all of my might.

And as I was falling, I heard his voice in my head: _"I wouldn't have thought you had it in you, Police Girl. I'll make a proper draculina out of you yet."_


End file.
